


Catching Flies

by sybun



Series: The Globox Trilogy [3]
Category: Game Grumps, oneyplays
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybun/pseuds/sybun
Summary: The final part of the Globox Trilogy.





	Catching Flies

The door closed shut behind Ding Dong. There was muted gibberish emitting from the TV and the air was still stifling from the afternoon sun. Chris was standing in front of him; his hair was in his face a little bit and he had this contagious grin spread across his lips. Ding Dong couldn't help but return the gesture, but it seemed out of place given his reason for being there. However, at the same time, it gave him this invigorating feeling that caused his face to well up with blood.

He felt as though he was being studied up and down as Chris followed behind.  
It was an unspoken consensus that Chris would have his way, but Ding Dong had no qualms with that -- he knew that no matter what happened, it was going to end with Chris' dick in his ass and a good amount of his own semen strewn in the sheets.

The moment Ding Dong sat down his shoulders were seized by Chris' hands. The lips that met his not a second later were, undoubtedly, a complete surprise. Ding Dong's mind went blank but he found himself pushing his lips back onto Chris'. The particular sensation was one he'd never felt before; the action was gentle yet it had all the marks of the desire that culminated from his absence. A hand snaked its way up Ding Dong's shirt again and it did so with a clear motive. At first, Chris just let his hand linger on Ding Dong's lower abdomen -- then it traveled upward. Chris' touch created these electric pulses that caused Ding Dong to break the kiss and tilt his head back in deep reflection. His face was comparable in beauty to a marble statue and he knew that Chris was ogling him and listening carefully for the gasps that escaped his lungs.  
The last time they were here, Chris recalled, he was unable to think clearly. But it wasn't like Ding Dong could either, and that was as clear then as it was now.

Chris let go and had this intriguing look in his eyes that detailed his thoughts; Ding Dong felt those ideas strongly in his pants. The sound of creaking permeated the room as Ding Dong moved in reverse. Chris was not far behind, looming over him for the entire motion. By the time Ding Dong found the headboard with his upper back, a hand had snaked down the front of his pants and was palming him over his underwear.

It was intrusive but he welcomed it and the sensation had his stomach sucking inwards. He found himself rocking his hips back against the hand. The longer it continued, the more breath audibly left Ding Dong's lips and the greater his uneasiness became. But Chris was no saint either, and that was made painfully obvious by the restrained look on his face and the dampness in his boxers.  
Chris' hand stalled for a mere second so that he could grab something that was off to the side; Ding Dong took a moment to recollect his thoughts. Then his pants and boxers slowly slid down and around his ankles and Chris was coating his hand just as he did before. But this time Chris gripped Ding Dong's dick and the feeling sent a jolt to his spine. 

He sat straight up and his face was directly beside Chris'. From there he could feel Chris' breath radiate down his neck and his own pulse pounding in his head. When Chris started moving his hand, Ding Dong fell forward more than anything else and his face found a place to rest on Chris' shoulder. It was nearly bone on bone but that was of the least concern for the moment. They found this pace that consisted of Chris twisting his fingers around Ding Dong tightly, tracing his thumb over the slit, and Ding Dong making a grunting noise that was muffled by Chris' shoulder. The longer Chris' fingers contracted, the more frequently Ding Dong became vocal, which leant an exceedingly lewd picture to his thoughts. 

"Ding Dong." Chris' lips moved on the shell of Ding Dong's ear; the words somehow morphed into adrenaline and compounded the arousal he felt. Ding Dong only grunted into Chris' shoulder to express that he had definitely heard him.

Chris let go of Ding Dong's dick but Ding Dong did not move an inch.  
"Lay back down." 

Ding Dong let himself fall backwards into the sheets. He just couldn't argue with Chris. Then Ding Dong's pants and boxers were completely removed and Chris did the same. He wondered what Chris had in mind when he suddenly felt a gel-like substance being poured into his open palm. But then it became clear to him.

"Finger yourself for me." Chris said this with a fixed stare but his thoughts seemed as though they were wandering.

Yet another offer Ding Dong couldn't rationally refuse. The position he was in could be described as rather provocative; he was almost completely nude and splayed out as his hand traveled down his abdomen. Chris watched Ding Dong's lips part a little when he inserted a single finger inside of himself. Then Ding Dong moved that finger, slowly, and the further it went the more one of his eyebrows lifted upwards and the more his jaw became slacked. 

Chris felt that the air around him was humidifying and he pushed up Ding Dong's shirt for the desire to see more of him. 

When Ding Dong added another digit, he began eliciting infrequent gasps that quickly began to add up in Chris' mind. He was watching Ding Dong's abdomen suck inwards, listening to the muffled noise that barely escaped his lips, and tracing his fingers on Ding Dong's thighs. But there was consequently a pressure that began growing between Chris' legs; it was rather unbearable by the time Ding Dong added a third finger and began mumbling Chris' name to himself. His heart was racing.

"God, you're so desperate." There was a hint of astonishment in Chris' voice but, even more than that, the tone of it deeply reflected his own desire. 

Ding Dong crookedly smiled with his eyes closed and it became apparent to Chris that Ding Dong knew exactly what he was doing. It was kind of funny, but this stupid look on Ding Dong's face compelled Chris to lean in and kiss him again. 

When Chris pulled his lips back, Ding Dong said, "Chris, if you kiss me one more time, I'm going to sit on your dick." It was a taunt that really only had one correct answer. So Chris kissed him again, like he was saying "yes" a million times. Ding Dong leaned upwards into the kiss as if to confirm that he was really going to do this. 

When Chris sat up again, he took a good look at Ding Dong as he removed his fingers from himself. Ding Dong motioned for Chris to lay down next to him as he propped himself up on his elbows. He found himself focusing on Chris' unbelievably green eyes.

Chris wasn't usually the type of person who would obey without question; this time, however, he knew that any sort of risk he was taking was far inferior to the reward. So Chris laid down, flat on his back, and observed Ding Dong maneuver himself so that his entrance was in line with Chris' dick. But this wasn't something that could be forced. Chris had to wait and continue to watch Ding Dong lower himself further and further down with this delicate expression on his flushed face. The sensation was nearly unbearable and the entire gesture was rather effeminate.

"You.. okay?" Chris said this to Ding Dong, but he felt this unnerving pressure and looked like he might implode again. It was likely because, at this moment, any sort of meaningful movement that Chris could make was severely restricted. Everything was in Ding Dong's hands and it was absolute woe on his nerves. 

Ding Dong had gone down as far as he could, which meant that his ass was resting on Chris' groin area. 

"…Yes." This word was a pure exhalation of air from Ding Dong's lungs. He sat there for a second, mouth slightly agape and his hands planted on Chris' chest. 

Chris swore he saw the room flash for a second when Ding Dong started moving. He had done this before, but the tightness around his dick was significantly greater. 

"Oh God…" Chris closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He reached out and grasped Ding Dong's thighs. It was painfully slow at first. Then Ding Dong was gradually picking up speed and it was taking a toll on Chris, who was practically trapped but desperately wanted to move his hips. The image of Ding Dong that he saw when he opened his eyes didn't help the situation; Ding Dong's head was tipped back, which gave view to his inexplicably pale throat. It still bore the marks of their last meeting, though they were significantly faded. 

When the sound of skin bouncing off of skin became audible, Chris had an epiphany -- it was an ingenious idea. 

"S-stop, Ding Dong." Chris winced and stilled Ding Dong's hips in an attempt to stop the motion. Ding Dong exhaled loudly but there was a certain shakiness in it. 

Ding Dong got off of him and, as any sensible man would do, turned his body around and got on all fours. He heard a fumbling sound and then felt the unmistakable sensation of a dick on his ass. There was a loss of fabric on Ding Dong's back as Chris pushed up the oversized shirt and traced the outline of Ding Dong's spine with the palm of his hand. 

He found himself sleepily blinking into the gentle touch, but his eyelids soon squeezed shut as Chris abruptly entered him again. His thrusts were slower at first but quickly gained this substantial power that had Ding Dong's knuckles turning white. Then Chris started saying stuff over the hum of the air conditioner -- sentences that sent a rush of blood to Ding Dong's face.

"I really missed this fuckin' feeling…" Chris spat out these words and his grip on Ding Dong's hips became tighter. Ding Dong moaned downwards in agreement.

"Y-You don't know how much I've thought about your dumb face and… and how good it looks when I'm fucking you.." Chris began to slightly curve his thrusts and got an optimal angle on Ding Dong's prostate; Ding Dong's vision started to flash white whenever it was hit.

"C-Chris.." 

Then the warmth and fullness inside Ding Dong suddenly disappeared. An arm snaked around his chest in the midst of his confusion and pulled him onto his back. When his back hit the bed, he was exposed again and Chris butted his shoulders against the back of Ding Dong's thighs. 

And then Chris was inside of him again, picking up where he left off. Ding Dong knew he wouldn't last much longer; it was difficult not to note his red cheeks and the saliva accumulating at the edges of his mouth.

"Ding Dong." The tone of Chris' voice was full of desperation.

Chris had found that one rhythm again, where the force of his thrusts caused Ding Dong to slide backward and forward on the sheets.

"C-Chris." The name came as out ragged breaths in response. 

Then a wave of desperation washed over Ding Dong and he felt this nagging urge to touch himself. The action of his fingers grasping and then pumping up and down his own dick made him tremble. The air in the room seemed heavy.

"I'm gonna f-fuckin'--" Chris said this through tight lips and the sentence would be completed by the shallow ramming of his hips as he came inside Ding Dong. Ding Dong's back arched at the sensation and he too soon succumbed to the white aftershocks. 

Then they both sat there in some kind of limbo where the only sound was rapid breathing that slowed down as time ticked by. Chris' face was so close that when he exhaled, Ding Dong inhaled his breath. It seemed that for a long while they just kind of looked at each other; their eyes never explicitly met, they only traced over the surfaces of their faces. And it was almost relieving when the warmth left Ding Dong but the absence was filled by yet another kiss. 

A little while later it was about 10 PM and they were both lounging on the couch playing Cuphead. Chris wasn't very good at it -- at least not as good as Ding Dong, which was apparent by the "You're so fuckin' good at this game!" comment from Chris. They were sitting closer than usual, but there was still just enough room for Julian if he were there.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. Thanks for reading. I apologize for the near-month delay -- a lot has happened in that time. I don't know what my next work will be, but look forward to it.


End file.
